


Have a little Faith

by CookieDoughMe



Series: Nate Hansen AU [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Haven (TV)
Genre: Buffy AU (Faith in a world with no vampires or slayers), F/M, Haven AU (in which Duke Crocker left Haven between the Troubles with his partner Nate Hansen), M/M, Multi, in which i try to write a fic based on two things i know nothing about, life in some kind of criminal underworld; and smooth-talking flirting, muddled timelines, nate hansen au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/pseuds/CookieDoughMe
Summary: What if, Duke and Nathan had grown up on the same side of the law? What if, they had no reason to hate each other? What might they get up to, exploring together the world of opportunity that the Rouge offers?The Haven side of this follows vaguely fromthese rambling thoughts. And then it just seemed like Faith would be a good person for them to meet.





	Have a little Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Duke Crocker and Nate Hansen grew up together in a strange little coastal town in Maine you won’t have heard of. They were always friends, for they had a lot in common, and they looked out for each other when their abusive fathers got too much to deal with.  
> They had long planned to leave town, and when Duke found himself in possession of a boat after an improbable poker win on his 21st birthday, he didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; just hauled anchor and set off to see the world, taking nothing else with him but Nate. 
> 
> The Cape Rouge became their home, their primary mode of transport, and their business. They took whatever transport or smuggling jobs they could get, and within a few years had built enough of a reputation among a certain section of society that they have more than enough work to keep them busy and to keep the Cape Rouge afloat. Sometimes they even take the night off.
> 
> Faith Lehane didn’t like to think about her childhood and she had escaped it through sheer force of will at the first chance she got. She’d built a place for herself in LA, a life of sorts. It had taken a while, but she felt safe now, mostly, though safe can sometimes be a lonely place.

Duke groaned in protest as the combination of daylight and the buzzing of his phone forced him awake. He rolled over in bed and stretched out an arm, opening his eyes when he registered that the body it found was not the shape he’d been expecting.

He blinked at the beautiful woman sleeping next to him, before remembering that Nate had spent the night with her sister. Which was all fine, but it was time for … whatever her name had been to go, and time Nate got himself back here to the Rouge.

Oh right, the phone. He blinked a bleary eye at it and read a text from Nate: **[you awake? stopping 4 food. want anything?]**

He typed a reply and hit send: **[nt rly. yes plz]**

“Um,” he said to the other side of the bed. “I don’t want to kick you out. But, I have to kick you out now.”

“Hum?” she mumbled, waking up. “What time is it?”

Duke looked at his phone again, “Half twelve,” he replied.

“Shit!” She sat up and pulled on her clothes, grabbed her bag and was pulling her phone out of it as she left, waving him a vague kiss goodbye as an afterthought.

Duke waved back and rolled over. _OK,_ he thought, _Good; two problems resolved themselves before breakfast, let’s hope the day keeps this up._

A few minutes later his phone beeped again and he only thought about hurling it at the wall for a minute before he sat up to read it. A message from an anonymous number this time, but one he was expecting; details of where to meet their contact tonight. He thought he recognised the address and if he was right then it should be easy to find. He would check it once he’d eaten.

He pushed himself out of bed and into the shower. The club had been fun. The whole night and into the early morning had been fun; LA was a good place to party. The hangover he wasn’t enjoying so much. The shower helped though and as he wandered out of the bathroom rubbing a towel through his hair, the day got better still with the sight of Nate arriving back home with what looked like a large bag of bagels and muffins.

“Ach, I love you,” said Duke, his eyes on the food.

“Sore head?” asked Nate with a grin, his eyes on the still-wet skin that Duke had not bothered to wrap a towel around.

“It’s been better,” admitted Duke. “How’s yours?”

Nate shrugged as he put the food down on the table and stood between it and Duke. “Been worse,” he said. “Nothing breakfast won’t cure.”

“What’d you get?” asked Duke and moved as if to reach round him to grab a bagel.

But Nate grabbed his wrist instead, “Wanna work up an appetite first?”

“You are impossible first thing in the morning.”

“It’s afternoon,” Nate pointed out.

“You know what I mean. Anyway, you bring me food and then won’t let me eat it,” Duke finished, giving up on drying his hair and throwing the towel behind him with his free hand.

“I’m not the one waltzing around all naked and glistening.”

“Glistening, huh? Very poetic. Distracting is it?” Duke stepped closer and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his damp skin to Nate’s clothes.

“You’ve had worse looks,” confirmed Nate, letting go of Duke’s wrist and wrapping his arms around Duke in turn.

Duke breathed in the familiar scent of Nate Hansen, but there was a hint of something else as well. “She uses the same perfume as her sister,” he said after a moment. “I can smell it on you.”

“You mind?” Nate asked.

“No.”

“You like it?”

“Kinda,” admitted Duke.

“Enough to wait for breakfast?”

“You are impossible,” said Duke with a grin that he was happy to let Nate smother with a kiss.

As his clothes found their way to the floor along with Duke’s, Nate was glad he’d bought food that wouldn’t suffer too much for being left on the table for a while, before they finally got around to eating it.

\--

Faith let the music wash over her as she moved to beats so loud she could feel them dance across her skin. No one came near her which was a shame, but not unexpected; no one wanted to risk offending someone with her reputation.

She’d owned this nightclub for 10 years and worked in it for longer than that. It was her home, but it wasn’t what paid the bills. She was known as The Slayer not simply because of her less legal business activities, but because of the things she had done to take that business from others and to establish a reputation which ensured that no one would want to double cross her.

It had worked and she felt about as secure in her business and her life as anyone operating at risk of jail could feel. But it meant for a lonely life sometimes; pretty much everyone she knew was afraid of her to some extent, even (or perhaps especially) those who wanted to sleep with her she thought, as she watched the people watching her dance.

As the track changed she gave up on the dance floor and moved away from the speakers to the bar at the other side of the room. Half way through her drink, she looked at the time; they were actually supposed to be here by now. She scanned the crowd. There, at the other end of the bar, that had to be them.

They had drinks in front of them, but they weren’t there to have fun, she could see it in their body language. They weren’t watching anyone dance, and while they were comfortable together they weren’t watching each other either. They were watching the room for threats, the same way she would in somewhere new. Either they were her contacts or they were cops and the latter option didn’t seem likely. Besides, she knew most of the local cops by sight and these two ... well, these two she would have remembered.

She got the barman’s attention with a gesture and sent a drink over to them, knowing that he would take a good look at their faces while he was there. Her bar staff - all of her staff - were carefully chosen and specifically trained. They were also security; her bodyguards in effect. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, but it was good to have backup and it meant she didn’t have to pay quite so much attention to everything all the time. Even with a reputation like hers she still had to be careful. The world was full of idiots who would try anything; she'd learnt that the hard way.

After a moment she followed their drinks to the other end of the bar and put her glass between theirs. As they turned on their bar stools to look at her, she realised they were a lot younger than she'd expected. But they had a reputation too and she didn't know of anyone else who would take the work she had for them.

“You’re here looking for a job,” she said.

“And if we are?” wondered Duke.

“Then you've found your contact. I know we need to talk details, but I can definitely find some use for the two of you,” she added, making a show of looking them up and down.

“You're the Slayer?” Duke didn't try and hide his surprise.

“Not what you expected?” she asked, making a show of looking herself up and down.

Duke's eyes travelled over skin-tight black leather and dark purple silk, but all he really saw was the shape of the body beneath and the slightly wicked grin in the eyes looking back at him.

“Not exactly, no,” he admitted, thinking of the tales of vicious killings and fiercely guarded territory they had heard and sharing a glance with Nate to see that he wasn't the only one who had been expecting someone most likely male, probably older, and absolutely far, far less attractive.

“Bring your drinks boys, let's go talk business.”

-

Faith led them through the club, down a nondescript corridor and to a door at the end, marked only by the very obvious security guard stood next to it. Duke resisted a subconscious urge to try and pull himself up a little taller; it would have been pointless in any case because this guy was at least as big as Duke and Nate combined.

Faith let them in through the door to what turned out to be a nicely furnished office. “So you boys have quite the reputation,” she began before the door was even shut behind them. “Shipping for anything and everything, no questions asked.”

“You have a lot of crates to move?” Duke replied.

Duke did the talking, as usual, with frequent glances at Nate to see if he agreed. If he didn't, Duke would change tack, and if Nate still didn't agree, he would say something. But they'd found that negotiations like this tended to go better if one of them did the talking. And negotiating was the kind of job Duke was better at. Nate tended to take over when things went wrong, when they had to persuade someone of the error of their ways, or when they had to pry out information someone was determined not to give.

Duke was the guy for charming persuasion, Nate had the knack of scaring people into blurting out things they were supposed not to. They both knew their strengths, and they played to them. They made a good team, and they knew that too.

The three of them moved around the office - and around each other - as they worked out the details of the job. Duke had expected someone else in the conversation at this point, someone who knew the details that a leader like the infamous Slayer would probably not want to bother themselves with. But it was just Faith and she reeled off all the information they needed - numbers, dimensions, weights, destination details. It occurred to him this might not be the first time she'd briefed someone on the same job, but even so, she was kinda impressive.

He did nothing to hide his interest in her, from her or from Nate. The two of them had long since worked out how to read each other’s interest in people they met, and how to make sure the other understood. He could see, clear as day, that Nate was interested in her too. And she seemed to be looking back at both of them in much the same way.

They agreed on the job and started to talk payment. Her style didn't change: she knew exactly what she wanted. And she knew exactly what she was prepared to give in return. Still, they were able to negotiate her to a reasonable price and Duke began thinking about the possibilities of a different kind of negotiation. A woman who knew what she wanted was always appealing, and she was just far enough away from them in age to add an extra edge to that somehow. And she was in fact anything but old; her movements held a graceful kind of power and he could well believe the stories about the fights to the death that had led to the title of “Slayer”.

“Fine,” nodded Duke, “We can pick up the cargo tomorrow.”

Faith handed them each a drink of whiskey, “A drink on the house to seal the deal,” she said, and the three of them stepped closer to clink a little toast.

“This is better quality than you serve at the bar,” observed Duke, “Do all your business associates get the good stuff?”

“Just the pretty ones,” she said.

“Hey, there's much more to both of us than just a pretty face,” replied Duke with a grin.

“Yes, I am very sure of that,” Faith replied, and that wicked grin flashed across her face as she looked from Duke to Nate and back again.

“If you're trying to decide which of us you most like the look of, don't bother,” suggested Duke.

“Why choose when you could have both?” asked Nate, throwing an arm around Duke's shoulder.

“Partners in more than just your business dealings then, interesting,” she said with approval, before adding, "You know, it is a refreshing change to be talking to people who aren't afraid of me.”

“Should we be?” asked Nate, unworried.

“No, not yet. Not if you're going to work as hard for me tonight as you will be tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said and he reached his hand towards her waist.

She stepped into Nate’s embrace as Duke shifted beside them and ran his fingers down her arm. She drew her eyes away from him to look at Duke, and then watched them share a look with each other.

“Hold that thought,” she said, and walked over to the door they'd come in through. She opened it and spoke to the security guy still stood outside, “No one comes in here. Unless the building's on fire it can wait until tomorrow.”

As he nodded an acknowledgement his eyes slid behind her to take in Duke and Nate for a moment, his curiosity evident. Faith just closed the door on him though and walked back over to them, nodding at a door on the other side of the room.

“Through there,” she said, following them and bolting the door behind her. It was an interesting room they found themselves in; one wall held a large and stylish bed, another an even larger and more stylish collection of knives.

“That's quite the collection,” Duke ventured, and took a step closer to take a look at some of the deadly looking weapons on the wall.

“It is. And they're all beautiful, but I didn't bring you back here so I could show you my knives,” she said and she pushed Duke hard enough in the chest that he took a couple of steps backward until his legs hit the bed and he toppled backwards onto it. 

“I get the impression not many people get to, um ... see your knives,” he suggested, watching her walk towards him.

“Not and live to tell the tale anyway,” Faith agreed, standing against the bed, legs either side of Duke’s as she undid his shirt.

“Well,” said Nate from the other side of the room, “They're not us.”

“Think you’re good do you?” she asked. She pushed Duke’s shirt open and took in the sight of his tattoos with an appreciative eye. “Nice ink. You have some too?” she asked Nate.

“Come and find out,” suggested Nate.

She stepped over to him and pushed him back a couple of steps as well until he hit the wall, where she started undoing buttons as she asked, “The real question though is, which of you shall I fuck first?”

“Him,” replied Nate, without stopping to think about it. Whatever response she’d been expecting, this clearly wasn't it. She raised her eyebrows at him and turned to see Duke’s reaction.

“He likes to watch,” Duke said, by way of explanation.

“Ah. And you?” she asked.

“He likes to be watched,” Nate said.

“Sounds like you two make a good pair,” she noted.

“In every way possible,” agreed Duke, with a soft smile directed at Nate. And then he turned his eyes back to Faith to ask, “So? Are you going to put him down and come over here?”

Nate watched as her face rearranged itself into a predatory-looking grin to rival Duke at his most cocky. She turned from him and his remaining shirt buttons, and moved to straddle Duke on the bed, pushing his shoulders firm against the mattress. Duke shifted under her and put his hands on her hips, waiting for what she would do next.

Nate stayed where he was, leaning against the wall. _This is going to be fun,_ he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> In theory I would like to write more for this, but I’m not sure if it will happen, so this is the end for now.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Reconnecting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254074) by [GreyHaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyHaven/pseuds/GreyHaven)
  * [In the Shadows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910402) by [SpankedbySpike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpankedbySpike/pseuds/SpankedbySpike)




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